


kink list #13

by aliatori



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 19!Ignis, 33!Gladio, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Food Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, canon? never knew her, having your cake and eating it too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: Ignis celebrates his birthday with an intriguing combination of Gladio and cake.





	kink list #13

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnsteadyGenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnsteadyGenius/gifts).



> happy birthday UnsteadyGenius!
> 
> a big thanks to [roadsoftrial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial) and UnsteadyGenius for their brainstorming power

As Ignis shifts in his lap, wearing nothing but one of Gladio’s pinstriped Zegna dress shirts and black, knee high socks, Gladio wonders exactly _whose_ birthday it is anyway.

“I believe there was mention of cake?” Ignis asks with false innocence. His tone sounds like he’s sitting across the table from Gladio at their favourite coffee shop chatting about their days at work and school, not straddling Gladio with a raging hard on that tents the loose fabric of his borrowed dress shirt.

Fuck. This is what he gets for dating an extremely attractive, extremely intelligent, and extremely _inquisitive_ 18 year old. No, scratch that, 19 now.

“Really?” Gladio skims a hand up Ignis’s inner thigh, running his thumb back and forth along the lean muscle, across soft skin and downy hair. “‘Cause it seems like,” Gladio begins, fingers skirting the base of Ignis’s cock, “you’re in the mood for somethin’ a little less sweet.”

Ignis flushes prettily—there’s a hint of the shyness that still peeks through from time to time—but affects a put-upon expression. “I know for a fact your arsenal of witty repertoire is more robust than that. Besides, you purchased my favourite cake. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

The way Ignis rolls his hips towards Gladio’s touch has his own dick stirring in his slacks. He moves his hands to grip Ignis’s waist and pulls him forward, seating him more firmly on his cock, the friction and weight of him sending an electric twinge from spine to groin. Gladio’s eyes flick to the coffee table, where two pieces of chocolate coffee cake rest on tiny stoneware plates, before being drawn back to Ignis—and the spreading patch of wetness leaking through the tented fabric of his baggy shirt.

“Ain’t like it’ll spoil between now and when I finish takin’ care of you,” Gladio rumbles. He leans forward and begins to suck on Ignis’s neck after placing a few fleeting kisses along the pale curve of skin. Gladio learned quickly that Ignis likes enough pressure to make the act border on painful, to leave purple bruises with irregular borders that fade like diluted watercolors. Ignis cards his fingers through Gladio’s hair and whimpers in the back of his throat.

“Feed me.” Ignis gasps the words, breathy and quiet, but they hit Gladio like a ton of bricks. His heart and cock twinge in a strange unison as he feels himself growing harder. “The cake, I mean. It’s one of the items on the list.” When Gladio draws back, he can see the flush across Ignis’ cheeks deepen to a rosy pink.

Right. The kink list. The one he hand wrote over the course of a week at his part-time library job and has slowly, steadily worked through with Gladio since they started dating.

“Anything you want, birthday boy.” He studies Ignis’ face, the brilliant green eyes scintillating as he considers a thought, a thought he voices in short order.

“After dessert…”

Ignis shifts more of his weight to his knees and takes one of Gladio’s hands in his. He uses the other to ruck up the too-big shirt, exposing his long, gorgeous cock and taut belly as he does, a sight that makes Gladio feel lightheaded as a tidal wave of blood rushes south. When Ignis guides Gladio’s hand to the cleft between his cheeks, to the flared base of a metal plug filling his hole, it takes every iota of his willpower not to throw Ignis on the couch and fuck him senseless. 

“I plan on taking my pleasure from you exactly how I want it.” Ignis’ voice holds the barest tremble as he says it, a minuscule waver in his confidence, but it’s the sexiest goddamn thing Gladio’s heard in a long time.

Shit. _Fuck._ This Ignis is a far cry from the fresh faced, blushing kid who couldn’t look Gladio in the eye when he agreed to come back to his place at the end of their first date. The budding confidence only makes Gladio want him more, a feat that seems impossible given that he wants Ignis all the damn time.

“Are you _absolutely_ sure the cake has to come first?” Gladio asks as he teases the gemstone covered base of the plug. He knows which toy Ignis has in—he helped him pick it out, after all—and his cock jumps as he wonders just how long Ignis has been wearing it. It also goes a considerable way towards explaining the way his pretty cock dribbles precome onto Gladio’s slacks. 

“Yes,” Ignis replies, chin up, green eyes sharp and eyebrow raised in challenge. There’s his stubborn straight A student, all haughty when he thinks he’s being denied something he deserves. Gladio almost laughs when he imagines Ignis wearing the same expression as he debates with a professor about an unsatisfactory grade.

“Fuck… okay. Can you reach behind you and hand me a plate, then?”

The pinstriped fabric mercifully drops to cover Ignis’s cock as he twists in Gladio’s lap; the coffee table sits within easy reach for Ignis’s long arms, and after pausing to push back a loose sleeve, he grabs a plate and turns to face Gladio again. The fork rattles against the plate as Ignis passes the piece of cake to Gladio, who has regretfully removed both his hands from Ignis’s body in order to take hold of the cockblocking dessert.

Gladio carefully cuts a smaller portion of the soft, layered chocolate cake with the edge of his fork. He’s not sure how much this will do for him, this whole food play business, even with the expectant, borderline eager expression on Ignis’s face. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anxious doing anything bedroom related, but that doesn’t stop a slight tingle of anxiety from sizzling across his nerves. He’s had a lot of relationships and even more one night stands—a high powered career in the entertainment industry presents seemingly endless opportunity—but no one’s ever asked Gladio to feed them.

Cake aside, right now… right now he’s far more interested in the fact that his young, hot boyfriend is sitting in his lap with a butt plug in his ass and a leaking boner.

Focus, Gladio. _Not_ your birthday.

The way Ignis parts his lips and closes them around the proffered fork reminds Gladio of the way he takes Gladio’s cockhead in his mouth, deliberate, like he knows Gladio is watching (and oh yeah, he does, every single time). That’s nothing compared to the way Ignis’s eyes roll back in his head, his eyelids fluttering closed as he starts chewing, giving a moan that comes out as a throaty hum because he has to keep his mouth closed. Gladio doesn’t think he’s exaggerating it for effect—not that he needs to, since Gladio’s still distressingly hard—because Ignis has a sweet tooth a mile wide. It wouldn’t be the first time desserts have been used as bribery, but it is the first time Gladio’s included in the bribe.

“I made the right choice?” Gladio knows he did, but he’d like to hear it from Ignis anyway.

“Quite. It’s exquisite.” Ignis swipes away a bit of frosting with his tongue before returning his gaze to Gladio.

“Good. You deserve nothin’ but the best, babe.” Gladio gets another bite sized piece of cake and feeds it to Ignis, transfixed by the pleasure evident on his face and the blush that floods his cheek at the compliment.

They work their way through the rest of the cake with tortuous slowness. He knows Ignis’s methodical nature, knows he wants to truly savor it, and Gladio’s all too eager to help him do so. Ignis makes most anything sexy, whether he intends to or not (he usually doesn’t), and the simple act of eating birthday cake proves no exception. Seeing Ignis happy, seeing him enjoy himself, spoiling him… those are all things Gladio can get behind, today of all days in particular. When Gladio gets ready to feed Ignis one of the last pieces of his slice, Ignis places his long, elegant fingers on Gladio’s wrist to stop him.

“Could you…” Ignis pauses, huffs out an adorable little breath that stirs the ash brown fringe of his hair, and continues, “could you use your hand instead?”

“Sure thing, but you gotta lose the shirt first. I already have a feeling my dry cleaner’s gonna judge me about these pants,” Gladio says with a grin.

Ignis unbuttons the overly large shirt with brisk, deft touches, his eyes locked with Gladio’s, the apples of his cheeks red now instead of pink. Gladio wonders why until Ignis fishes two items from the breast pocket of the shirt: a shiny foil condom packet and a bottle of lube. Shit, how did Gladio miss that? He places both beside Gladio’s thigh on the couch. Having all five feet, ten inches of Ignis in his lap, naked except for those fucking socks, sends a delicious ache pulsing through his groin. Gladio still holds the plate in one hand and the fork in the other; he’s never wished to have multiple hands more than this exact moment.

“The cake?” Ignis asks, voice low, the luminous green of his eyes devoured by his pupils.

“So demanding.” Gladio smiles as he says it, gratified by the way Ignis’s gaze flicks away. He loves his more confident boyfriend, but he loves the demure parts of him too, the parts still figuring out what makes him tick and entrusting Gladio to help him discover it.

Gladio bisects the remaining cake and takes it between his thumb and forefinger—of his clean hand, mind you, not the one Ignis used as a lewd demonstration of his plans for the evening.

Ignis waits with his mouth open, tongue flat and sticking out just a little over his plush bottom lip, and that image alone is worth the whole exercise. When Gladio offers the morsel to Ignis, he treats Gladio’s fingers the same way he treated the fork, enveloping the thick digits with the warm wetness of his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact with Gladio, eyes half lidded, until he finishes chewing and swallowing the cake. Gladio makes to pull his hand away, but Ignis stops him once more, curling his slender fingers around Gladio’s wrist.

He doesn’t say anything, just brings Gladio’s hand close to his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean the frosting from Gladio’s fingers with little kitten licks. Gladio moans low in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest. He’s so hard it’s starting to hurt and there’s definitely a wet spot in his boxer briefs.

“ _Iggy_.” Gladio growls out the nickname, reaching down and taking Ignis’s cock in his hand. He’s gone a little soft what with all the cake eating, but he responds beautifully as Gladio begins to stroke him back to hardness, enjoying the hot, velvety feel of Ignis’s dick in his palm. “Lemme fuck you, please.”

A shudder courses through Ignis’s lithe, perfect body as he ruts into Gladio’s hand. He rocks back and forth in Gladio’s lap—to stimulate himself with the plug, he guesses—with his eyes closed and lips parted. It seems like Gladio hasn’t been the only one struggling with self-control.

“The list…” Ignis’s protest dissolves into pants as Gladio gives his cock a firm squeeze.

“Forget the list for now,” Gladio begins, snatching a lucid moment to clear the plate off the couch with his free hand, “I’m sure there’s somethin’ in the fridge we can slather on each other and eat, but right now, I promise I’ll take good care of you. Wanna watch your gorgeous face as I make you come on my cock.”

Desire sears through Gladio like lightning as Ignis reaches a hand behind his back. He closes his eyes, gives a single deep inhale and exhale, and takes his lower lip between his teeth. There’s a single flash of discomfort that resolves into relief, and true to Gladio’s suspicions, Ignis holds the silver, jeweled plug in his hand. There’s not really a good place to put it, so Ignis tosses it aside on the far end of the couch, a mess for Gladio to clean up later.

If he gave any shits about the mess, he stops giving them as soon as Ignis kisses him, his tongue hot against Gladio’s lips as he licks into his mouth. Ignis makes a high pitched noise as they’re locked together, maybe a keen, maybe a whine, but it sends another electric thrill through Gladio’s whole body. Ignis steals a few more deep, sloppy kisses from Gladio before they break apart. 

“Be a good boy and lay back on the couch,” Gladio says.

How fast Ignis scrabbles from Gladio’s lap serves as a testament to his enthusiasm. Gladio isn’t far behind him as far as eagerness goes. He stands and strips out of his work clothes as fast as he can—may as well not add any more suspicious stains—peeling off dress shirt, belt, slacks, underwear, and socks in short order. They go in a heap with Ignis’s borrowed shirt for future Gladio to deal with.

He climbs back on the couch and kneels between Ignis’s spread legs. Ignis has his cock in hand and idly runs his hand up and down it, not truly jerking off, just keeping himself keyed up, and smirks as soon as Gladio catches his eye. Gladio has the condom rolled onto his dick and is squirting lube into his palm when Ignis speaks.

“I’m certainly not getting any _younger_ , Gladiolus.”

Gladio’s cock twitches in his hand. He coats the length of it in lube in what might be record time before leaning over Ignis’s prone body, bracing himself with one hand on the side of Ignis’s head and lining himself up with Ignis’s hole using the other. Ignis wraps his legs around Gladio’s waist as soon as he’s able, his socked ankles crossed over Gladio’s lower back, his lean, smooth thighs bracketing Gladio’s hips.

“For someone who wanted to keep eating cake,” Gladio starts, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against Ignis’s hole just to hear him whine, “you sure are eager all of a sudden.”

“It’s my birthday and I’m entitled to… to change my mind.”

Gladio laughs, low and dark, overwhelmed with affection and desire for the stunning creature beneath him. “That you are, Iggy. Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

“It’s—” Ignis cuts off with a gasp as Gladio begins to press into him. “God, Gladio, it’s never too much.”

He takes his time entering Ignis anyway, paying close attention for any sign of discomfort from him, but he finds none. It’s hard to believe this is the same person who stammered out a confession of virginity in the middle of Gladio’s living room. There are still moments where Ignis’s shyness takes over, but for the most part he’s comfortable with Gladio, more vocal, less afraid to voice his satisfaction. It’s a marvel every time he offers himself to Gladio. He’s fully buried inside Ignis when he pauses and holds himself still.

“Feel good?”

Ignis’s turns his face so that his cheek rests against the couch, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “Good,” he breathes, “but full. Give me a moment.”

Gladio leans down to press his lips to Ignis’s—it’s a distraction for both of them, Ignis from the stretch and Gladio from the urge to thrust, to seek out Ignis’s tight heat and chase his pleasure. Ignis returns the kiss, tasting of chocolate and coffee from the cake, a hint of sweetness to counterbalance his natural, neutral taste. Gladio bows his head and groans when he feels Ignis’s walls clench around him before relaxing once more.

When Ignis nods, Gladio begins to fuck him with slow, measured strokes. It doesn’t take long for Ignis’s features to become soft with desire, a rosy flush spreading across the dewy skin of his neck and cheeks. He rocks in and out of Ignis, pleasure curling around the base of his spine and winding it tight, heat simmering in his belly. What little capacity for thought Gladio has left goes towards thinking about how good Ignis feels around him, how lucky he is to call Ignis his, how he’ll never get tired of this no matter how many items from the goddamn list they get through.

Sweat beads all over Gladio’s body as his heart begins to beat faster with exertion. He has great stamina, but tonight his goal is to last as long as Ignis does and not a half a second longer. Ignis has one arm around Gladio’s neck, his hand buried in Gladio’s hair, and the sensation of Ignis’s fingertips against his scalp is a tiny pleasure swept up into the growing wave.

Usually Ignis waits longer before touching himself; tonight, he reaches between his legs and takes hold of his cock as soon as Gladio begins to angle his thrusts towards his prostate. Gladio’s not far behind, not after an hour plus of teasing and touching, so he pistons his hips faster, fast enough for the slap on slap of skin to fill the room.

“Harder,” Ignis moans, his face buried in the couch and his hand working his cock in hurried, precise strokes.

Gladio’s not sure if God himself could keep him from giving Ignis what he’s asked for. He slams into Ignis over and over, completely sheathing his cock each time, watching as Ignis’s whole body moves underneath him with the force of his thrusts. The sheen of sweat on Ignis’s face and chest glistens in the buttery light of the living room; that combined with how fast he’s jerking off and the way his thighs twitch against Gladio’s waist signal that he’s close.

Sooner rather than later, Ignis’s back arches off the couch, his slender body going rigid. He gives a cry that deteriorates into a ragged moan as his ass clenches around Gladio’s cock. The brief look of pure, unfettered ecstasy that crosses Ignis’s face, combined with the warm splash of his come spilling between their bodies, drags Gladio over the edge with him. He can only manage a grunt as he succumbs to the orgasm he’s been chasing, every muscle impossibly tight before a more gentle bliss washes through his body.

Minutes pass in a silence broken only by the sound of their breathing as they come down together. Eventually, Gladio slides out of Ignis as he wills his heart to slow. Ignis wears a tiny, serene smile and runs his socked feet up and down Gladio’s lower back.

“That was a nice birthday present,” Ignis murmurs. 

“There’s more where that came from.” Gladio’s lascivious grin earns him a light smack on the chest from Ignis.

“Are you certain you can keep up?”

Gladio chuckles. “I’m old, but I ain’t that old. At least not yet.”

“True enough.” Ignis brushes his hair out of his eyes, a thoughtful cast to his youthful features. “I wonder if that was a sufficient amount of food play to justify marking it off the list.”

It’s Gladio’s turn to slap the outside of Ignis’s thigh. “I don’t think I did a good enough job if you’re still thinking about the fuckin’ list.”

Another delicate blush filters across Ignis’s sharp cheekbones. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not certain I’ll be able to walk for at least several more minutes. Hence my thoughts turning to the list.”

“Tell you what, birthday boy,” Gladio starts, pausing to press a kiss to Ignis’s forehead, “let’s go get cleaned up, then we can do whatever you want to satisfy your exacting requirements.”

It’s not until the next morning—after Gladio licks a trail of whipped cream off Ignis’s back before giving him a _thorough_ rimjob—that Ignis crosses food play off their list.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed. <3
> 
> You can find a drabble set in this universe [over on roadsoftrial's Tumblr here.](https://thelegendarynoctgar.tumblr.com/post/174579283905/a-little-something-for-unsteadygenius-happy)
> 
> Come find me living the Gladiolus Amicitia appreciation life over on [Tumblr](http://aliatori.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra).


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